


Mio Sole

by Crumbles_Of_Reality



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emotional Whump, Howard Stark needs a kick in the dick, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Maria Stark's Good Parenting, Sad, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony's sad childhood, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 22:11:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13109529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crumbles_Of_Reality/pseuds/Crumbles_Of_Reality
Summary: Maria Stark was…. She was not the best of mothers. The woman would never say that she was, either. But she did know some things about her son. She knew that Antonio Stark- who cares what Howard says, Anthony doesn’t have the right ring to it- was a soft, sweet little boy. He did not deserve what his father put him through. More than that, she knew that behind all his tough armor, he was just what he appeared to be- a little boy, lost and scared in a world that despised him.





	Mio Sole

**Author's Note:**

> All translations for the story will be at the bottom!

Maria Stark was…. She was not the best of mothers. The woman would never say that she was, either. But she did know some things about her son. She knew that Antonio Stark- who cares what Howard says, Anthony doesn’t have the right ring to it- was a soft, sweet little boy. He did not deserve what his father put him through. More than that, she knew that behind all his tough armor, he was just what he appeared to be- a little boy, lost and scared in a world that despised him. 

She made sure to let her son know that she cared. Jarvis also made an effort, and Maria is forever grateful to the man for passing the boundaries as a butler and stepping in as a father figure. It helps Tony grow, and Maria’s heart swells with pride every time he betters her in piano, or singing, or laughing (because Howard told him once that happiness is for people who deserve it, and her baby boy took that to heart too quickly). 

Sometimes, she forgets. Maria forgets to be a good mother, and watches blankly and numbly at the world around her. Her heart aches, but she can’t bring herself to move from her seat at the dinner table, or the couch, or the bed, and Maria watches her only son beaten to a pulp. She can’t move a muscle. It’s possible that Tony loathes her for this. In fact, the boy should. The truth that he doesn’t, that he loves her more than life, is a hard burden to bear. She buries it in wine and more blank, hopeless gazes. 

Now she sits with her son, who is still no more than a child. His frail hands swirl across the keyboard with fervor and frightening concentration for a boy of six. She puts his hands to rest by placing hers on top of his and looking at him. This is not a blank stare- this is a sweet, loving mother admiring her son’s talent. 

Tony realizes this, and babbles something in Italian. She laughs and her eyes crinkle at the edges- age and stress is getting to her. His speech is garbled when he tries, but it means the world to her that he is learning from her teachings. 

“ _ Ti amo mamma _ ,” he says, pressing against her chest uncertainly. Maria stills before replying. 

“ _ Ti amo, mio sole, _ ” she whispers. Tony doesn’t know the word for sunshine, yet, and he doesn’t understand what she says. Maria plans to teach him all she knows of her language that day. Her baby, so intelligent and amazing, nestles into her. His broken body is full of sharp angles and pointy limbs, purpling bruises and scars. From a ring, perhaps. A family heirloom. 

The moment has passed, and Antonio resumes his piano playing. Charming chords fill their room once more, and Maria finds herself longing to run away with her son. To take him away from the big life, where he is taunted and beaten and judged by the public for existing. Down to a small town in Italy that wouldn’t judge him for being alive. She reminisces about her childhood, and when she comes to Maria realizes that the music had stopped long ago, and that Tony is gone. It is dark outside, and she has failed as a mother once again. 

 

“ _ Fa male, mamma, fa male! _ ” Tony cries, and Maria shushes him with a press of her finger to his lips. He immediately quietens down, sobs becoming hushed echoes of the wailing that had lead her outside. She tries to focus on the problem at hand- her son’s twisted, broken arm- and not  _ how  _ exactly he got on the grounds outside of their mansion.

She knows the sickening truth. Tony’s eyes were watering with agony, yet the tiny boy held his own and didn’t let his mouth open again. His breath came in short bursts from his nose, and his face paled with each gasp for air he made. Maria cradled him as she called for Jarvis to get an ambulance. 

“Why did you do it, Antonio?” She whispered, lips pressed to his forehead in a futile attempt to comfort the shaking boy. Her son stilled in her arms and before cold dread could rush through her he shifts and speaks.

“I heard Howard coming,” he replied, tears threatening to well at the edges of his eyes once more. Maria held her only child tight and waited until the ambulance came, mumbling reassurances that sounded more like prayers.

Maria does not let Howard touch her that night. He falls asleep after screaming at her, eyes bloodshot and breath reeking of liquor. She lies in bed for hours, spittle on her face from where she could not be bothered to wipe it off.

 

Jarvis goes to pick Tony up from the hospital a day later, and she does not join him. 

 

Her young son is sent off to boarding school in a blink of an eye. She watches him hold back tears and hugs him goodbye. He whispers something in the ear of Jarvis before clambering into the expensive car and being carted off to a place where he knows no one. Maria is sure that everyone will know him, and the thought makes her throat close up. 

Jarvis walks up to her and stops a few feet away from her promptly. He looks at prim and trim as always, and Maria opens her mouth to thank the man for all he has done for their family. The butler speaks before she can, and his british accent carries sharply to her ears.

“Master Stark wished for you to know that he loves you, and that he hopes….” Jarvis looks around expressionlessly as if checking for someone or something, “ And he hopes that you stay safe.” 

The man begins to walk away, and Maria once more finds herself at a loss for words. Harsh purple and red bruises flash before her eyes, and the wailing of a little boy reaches her ears. She is not the one who needs to stay safe. 

“Jarvis?” Her voice rasps out frail and thin, smaller than she expected and underwhelming overall. The butler stops abruptly and turns, eyebrow raised in question.

“Yes, Ma’am?” 

“Thank you,” Maria manages, and Jarvis looks faintly surprised before nodding and continuing to walk away. She feels a pressure leave her chest, and the rest of the day blows by with picture-perfect ease. 

Howard is ripping up letters and Maria is screaming. Her son is miles away, towns away, and he is writing with childish scrawl on a piece of paper. Predictably, there is an address on this paper- their home. Maria had been receiving the letters for weeks and hiding them away in a box in her closet. She wasn’t sure how her husband found them, as he doesn’t do much cleaning. One of the maids must have tipped him off.

Back to the present, where tears are running down her face as the man she used to know shreds the carefully printed letters Tony sends her. He had been surprisingly quiet at dinner, and when they had retired to their quarters she found out why. Her letter box was sitting on the cleanly made bed, and Howard spoke softly from behind her.

“Maria… you wouldn’t happen to know about these letters, would you?” It’s threatening, and Maria knows it’s supposed to be. She represses a shudder and turns to look at her husband. His eyes are full of cold, suppressed rage. Maria takes this time to remind herself that Howard gets easily angry over very small things- she sends a prayer to God and replies.

“Our son had been sending them biweekly, Howard,” she begins, flinching when Howard focuses on her, “Don’t you think that’s lovely, honey?” Her futile attempts to derail the building tension in the room go unnoticed, and Howard walks towards her as she backs up. Soon they are face to face, Maria’s legs pressed against the side of the bed.

“What have I told you- Maria,  _ darling, _ ” he drawls, “What have I told you about teaching our son about  _ your  _ side of the family?” His voice twists the word ‘your’, making it sound disgusting and sinful in his mouth. Fear wells up in her breast, and she makes herself seem as small as humanly possible. 

“I- I haven’t done anything, Howard, you know I respect your wishes-” 

She isn’t prepared for the harsh slap that leaves her reeling onto the bed. His breath hits heavy against her, and Maria wishes for a place she could go that is  _ anywhere  _ from where she is now. 

“It’s all written in Italian!” He roars, and Maria finally flinches and buckles down. She prepares herself for whatever is coming and curls into a ball on the bed, trying not to shake too much. She hears movement, and then a hard, rough hand presses against her back and begins to rub against it in a circular motion. 

Howard takes her chin in his other hand and makes her look at him, smiling charmingly and whispering apologies. “I’m sorry Marigold, you know how aggravating it can be when you don’t listen to me…” 

Maria is too tired to object. Forgive and forget, isn’t that what they say? She lets Howard cradle her in his arms and falls asleep broken. The next morning she receives a letter from her son and decides not to write back anymore. 

Tony graduates high school with his grades flying well above any others with years to spare. Maria shows up to see him walk to the podium and receive his diploma. She meets his eye and he nods once; Slightly, solemnly. She fails to see that her son’s intelligence is met at the expense of his heart- there is no warmth in his eyes anymore, only a cold dead stare. 

When Tony heads off to MIT she hears nothing of the boy for nearly six months straight. Maria tries not to think of it too much- college boys will be college boys, right? But college boys are eighteen, and her son had just hit his first growth spurt as he packed his meager bags and left their house for good. 

Then the articles start coming in.  _ Stark Prodigy Flopping In New Environment!  _ and  _ Anthony Stark Seen Drunk At College Party At 15! _ The first bud of worry starts to sprout within her, and it grows with each new headline she sees. Maria wishes for her son to come home, calls him relentlessly and ignores the world around her. 

Howard Stark is getting worse. His liver is akin to swiss cheese, and the only solace Maria can find in the entire situation is that he cannot yell when he is forgetting. He is diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s at age 64 and decides to drown his memories even further in drink. She is grateful that the house is so big, and for Jarvis for taking care of her.

Tony doesn’t come home for Christmas, but he sends her a voicemail. His voice is barely discernible over the yelling and music in the background, but the drunk giggles ringing through Maria’s ears make her feel sick all over again. 

“ _ Che succede, il mio sole? _ ” She whispers into her palms. No one replies, of course, and the phone lies next to her for a while, reminding her of her son’s misfortunes. For a long time she sits there, back aching with age at her hunched pose. Maria fears the worst- that her son will be no better than the monster residing in the other end of the house. She spends a lot of time in fear, and soon yet another year has passed. Throughout time she sees snippets of Tony, but it is not enough. It is never enough. 

 

Maria Stark sees her son one last time before she dies. He is hungover and still so young- Howard claps him on the back and wishes him a good one, and Tony flinches and plasters on a smile. She motions for her child to come with her to another room so she could speak with him alone. He follows her into their piano room and together they sit on the faded bench there, both thinking of all those times many years ago. 

She is not the one who starts playing. It is Tony, playing an old nursery rhyme that she used to sing to him. His voice is raspy and tired but he still makes an attempt to clear it before singing. He has not forgotten the lyrics to her song, as Maria notes, but he starts halfway through it. 

“ _ Chiudi gli occhi mio tesor,  _

_ Dolce amor, dolce amor,” _

Her voice joins in halfway, and Tony is still playing the simple chords to the piece with a small, sad smile. 

_ “Fa la nanna sul mio cuore,  _

_ Dolce amor, dolce amor. _

_ Fa la nanna sul mio cuore. _ ”

  
  


Maria Stark sees her son one last time before she dies, and that is all she needs. As she sits in the car on that snowy road her mind is on her son and his voice, his smile, his delicate hands as they pressed down on the piano keys. Her sweet Antonio, voice like heaven and angels combined and teeth as white as clouds. Her  _ sole _ , light and kind and so forgiving.

 

A mother of one brilliant boy is killed in a car one day on a snowy road, December 16th 1991. She is forgotten behind the bluster and bright lights of her husband, and certainly no one thinks of what she went through that night. They grieve her, but no one heard her prayers and thoughts and  _ screams  _ that night. Maria prayed for Tony Stark, wishing him a long and happy life. She thought of her baby son, Antonio, wishing him pancakes and smiles and bright blue skies. 

She screams for the fact that she never got to say goodbye to either. 

**Author's Note:**

> IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE:   
> 1\. I love you mommy. (Tony)  
> 2\. I love you my sunshine. (Maria)  
> 3\. It hurts, mommy, it hurts! (Tony)  
> 4\. What happened, my sunshine? (Maria)  
> 5\. The lullaby lyrics are:   
> Close your eyes my treasure,   
> Sweet love, sweet love,  
> Go to sleep on my heart,   
> Sweet love, sweet love.
> 
> ^^If there's anything wrong with my translations please let me know!!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed; If you did feel free to leave a Kudos and a Comment! If you didn't please also comment and tell me how much I killed you.   
> Go to sleep on my heart.


End file.
